


Well Suited

by AVAAntares



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVAAntares/pseuds/AVAAntares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ianto opened Jack's gift, he wasn't sure what he expected to see... but it definitely wasn't spots. (From a prompt by gmariam.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well Suited

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for this Tumblr prompt, courtesy of gmariam:  
> "Nick Cannon wore a suit coat with a subtle polka dot pattern on TV last night.  
> Sort of like pinstripes, only not.  
> I think Ianto Jones needs one.  
> And I bet Jack got it for him."

 

“Go on. Open it.” Jack leaned forward eagerly.

Ianto raised an eyebrow. Jack being  _this_  excited about something never boded well. In fact, it generally resulted in some kind of mess for him to clean up. “Will it bite me?”

“Of course not.” Unable to contain himself, Jack leaned forward and began loosening the knotted string. “Here, I’ll--”

“Oi!” Ianto swatted Jack’s hand. “I’m old enough to open my own birthday gifts, thank you.” He began unwrapping the package, careful not to damage the packing paper -- an unconscious habit he’d picked up working in the archives, and one which drove Jack crazy. Once he noticed Jack’s fingers twitching with the temptation to help, Ianto found a perverse delight in annoying him: The more Jack fidgeted, the more slowly Ianto separated the layers of tape and paper.

“Oh, come on!” Jack cried after a moment. “Just tear it.”

“I never muss the wrapping.” This was patently untrue; as a child, he and his sister had held an unofficial competition each Christmas to see who could produce the bigger pile of confetti from their gift wrappings.

“It’s just plain paper!”

“No point in being wasteful,” Ianto replied, enjoyed the frustrating growl that elicited. “It’s a nice, clean sheet of butcher paper. It could be useful for something.” He took care to smooth the wrinkles from the paper and roll it into a neat tube before examining the box. It was large, and emblazoned with the name of a prestigious haberdasher.

Ianto raised the eyebrow again. “I like the box.”

“ _Open_  the box, Ianto.”

“It might ruin the illusion.” He tapped the name. “I know they only do bespoke work.”

“Ianto. Open. The. Box.”

Ianto did so, folding back a layer of tissue paper to reveal... the largest necktie he had ever seen. No, there was far too much fabric for that, though the bold pattern certainly  _looked_ like something that should be a necktie. Perhaps it was a dressing gown? It seemed to have lapels...

He blinked. It was a suit jacket. Covered in tiny circles.

Ianto’s mouth made several false starts before he managed to produce sound. "...Polka dots, Jack?” He closed his eyes, reopened them. The suit was still there. “ _Polka dots?!_ "

Jack nodded enthusiastically. “The guy at the shop said this is the latest thing. Really popular with the celebrity crowd.” Unable to contain himself any longer, he lifted the jacket out of the box and shook out the folds. “Wait until you see it in the light. It’s  _shiny_.”

Ianto knew his lower jaw was still dangling helplessly, but he could not come up with anything to say. It wasn’t until he had been hauled to his feet and stripped of his dark pinstripe jacket that he realized Jack was trying to put the nightmarish thing  _on his body_.

“Jack!” Ianto flung his arms up in defense. “I can dress myself.”

“Then try it on! I want to see how it looks.” Jack scooped the matching trousers out of the box and thrust the pile of dotted fabric into Ianto’s arms.

To Jack’s obvious disappointment, Ianto excused himself to the en suite. “This way you’ll get the full effect all at once,” he explained, though his true reason for fleeing had more to do with the fear that he couldn’t continue to dissemble his horror of the spotted...  _thing_.

Still, he thought as he regarded his reflection in the small shaving mirror, Jack was awfully excited, and the material, while hideous in pattern, was of high quality. Whatever else it was, the suit hadn’t been cheap. He might as well put the thing on and get it over with.

Two minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom wrapped in polka dots. “Ta-da,” he chimed halfheartedly.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up, and he walked in a slow circle before letting out a full-blooded wolf whistle. “I shoulda tipped that guy more.”

Ianto tried not to cringe and went to the closet mirror. Braced for the worst, he turned toward his reflection.

Then he turned to the left. And to the right. And back to the left.

“It’s... really well tailored,” he said, running an appreciative hand over the welt pockets. “In fact, it’s a perfect fit.”

“I got your measurements from the Hub security scans,” Jack grinned. “You gave me the idea, shopping for Gwen’s wedding dress.”

Ianto tugged down a cuff and turned to admire the cut of the shoulders. He hated to admit it, but the garish dot pattern really did flatter his figure. Even if the surface of the fabric  _was_ shiny enough to use as a lighthouse beacon.

Jack came to stand behind him, bouncing on his toes. “So, do you like it?”

Ianto met his eyes in the mirror and saw the trace of anxiety there. He smiled reassuringly. “It’s a lovely gift, Jack. Thank you. It’s a little... dressy for office wear, but perhaps you could take me someplace where it would be more suitable.”  _Like Best of British_ , he added silently.

“I think that could be arranged.” Jack grinned and leaned in, tugging suggestively at the razor-edged lapel. “So... when do I get to open  _my_  present?”

“Oi.” Ianto slapped his hand away. “You know how I feel about mussing the wrapping.” 


End file.
